


clipped, but not broken

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-10
Updated: 2010-02-10
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Jin will never dance again, except in Yamapi’s heart.





	clipped, but not broken

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

It’s been three years, six months, and twenty-three days since Jin last took the stage. This doesn’t count the failed attempts at a comeback or the numerous appearances in KAT-TUN MCs because regardless of whether he’s performing with them or not, he will always be their A. Last year they’d tried an acoustic approach, where he just sat and played the guitar and sang, but it was too painful to see the disappointment in the sea of faces in the audience, hear it in the negative reviews and the whispers in the hallways along with the halfhearted notes that came from his own voice.

The one who’s the most disappointed in him is himself. He’d been careless, taking advantage of his health, reaching new heights with his ego and the image he’d made for himself. It wasn’t even a work-related injury, unless you counted the initial strain right after his group’s debut. He’d give anything to go back to that minimal level of pain, where the only thing he couldn’t do was hip moves.

Honestly, he’s lucky to be alive. He’s lucky to be able to walk. He’s lucky that all he sustained was a scraped chin and a broken hip from flying across three lanes of traffic and eating the pavement. He doesn’t remember what happened, only that he was _definitely not drunk_ like the tabloids had claimed, crossing the street like a good pedestrian when a car came out of nowhere and his world went black.

Though he kind of wishes he’d been conscious to see Yamapi pull the driver out of the car and beat the shit out of him in the middle of the street. He’d been suspended for almost a year because of it, which only served for him to be around during Jin’s endless surgeries and physical therapy. Yamapi’s undying support and motivation was probably the only reason Jin could walk at all, watching his best friend’s face light up with each step like he himself was responsible for Yamapi’s every happiness.

Jin’s glad that somebody’s happy. The words “you can’t dance anymore” echo in his head like a mocking chant, the reoccurring nightmare that his life has become by not being able to do what he loves the most.

“I’m going to be _thirty_ tomorrow,” he whines, punching the buttons to play DDR because that’s the closest he can get these days. “What do I have to show for it?”

“An amazing roommate,” Yamapi says, elbowing him in the arm and making his character miss a step. “Stop being so pessimistic or I’ll make you come to another NewS reunion.”

Jin makes a face. “Okay, okay.” He still sees sparkles behind his eyes from the _last_ time Yamapi’s ex-bandmates had attacked him with positivity. “I just feel useless now.”

“I’ll let you wash the dishes,” Yamapi says seriously. “Then you can be useful.”

Jin elbows him back, cackling when Yamapi feigns hurt. “I liked it better when you were working.”

“Lies,” says Yamapi, and Jin can’t argue because it’s the truth. NewS never fully functioned after their leader’s suspension, only an album and a tour before they were officially disbanded. Yamapi still poses for photoshoots and acts lead roles in dramas, but it’s nothing compared to his workload before.

Jin can’t find it in him to complain, even if he feels guilty for being responsible for it. Despite Yamapi yelling at him every time he brings it up.

“Come on, let’s go to the grocery store,” Yamapi says eagerly. “I’ll get the chair.”

“I don’t need it,” Jin protests, pushing off of the arm of the couch to stand up. “I can walk just fine.”

Yamapi looks at him with big eyes and a pout, which somehow makes him look like a puppy dog despite pushing thirty himself. “But I want to ride on the motorized scooter.”

Jin can’t keep the smile off his face at the thought of them zooming around the store, Yamapi standing on the back and leaning over to put things into the cart. It’s possibly the only time that Jin doesn’t get sympathetic looks in public, because they’re both having so much fun that there’s nothing to pity.

He thinks that Yamapi secretly likes parking in the handicapped spaces as well. Even if he had to trade in his sexy black car for a wheelchair-accessible minivan. There’s a soccer ball sticker on the back window from the owner before, which Jin couldn’t let him scrape off because of the fond memories it brings.

Just another thing he loved that he can’t do anymore.

“If you don’t let me walk, I’m going to get fat,” Jin whines. “Then you can’t carry me anymore.”

“I would just have to work out more,” Yamapi replies as he flexes his biceps. “You could never be too fat for me to carry.”

Jin’s tempted to try, just to prove him wrong. It’s not like he has any reason to stay in shape. Now his hair is long because he wants it to be, messily pulled back into a ponytail that isn’t perfect. He sometimes goes a week without shaving, until he feels like a complete bum because the idol in him will never disappear entirely.

It’s a nice summer day and the store isn’t far, although Jin suspects that Yamapi would rather push him across town than attempt to fold up his wheelchair and set it up properly when they get there. Jin’s gotten used to the surreal feeling of moving without controlling it, watching everyone else rush by like they’re not even thinking about walking, their functioning bodies that may not be perfect but at least get them to where they want to go.

He hopes they’re fucking grateful.

They fill up the scooter’s basket, cake mix and other sweets that lead Jin to believe that he’s not the only one trying to fatten him up. The sun is setting on their way home and Jin insists on stopping by the park by their apartment, finally getting out of his restricting chair and tentatively stepping forward until the familiar pain starts.

Yamapi’s arm feels natural around his waist, even if it’s more out of balance than affection. Jin doesn’t know where to draw the line between them anymore; Yamapi has seen him at his worst, helped him through everything and made it clear that he’s not going anywhere. It’s the two of them forever, Pin for _life_ even if it’s just something else that Jin blames himself for, keeping Yamapi from being happy with his own family.

“Stop it,” Yamapi berates him, and Jin jumps guiltily. “I can always tell when you start thinking those ridiculous thoughts about burdening me because you get this look on your face that breaks my heart.”

“Sorry,” Jin mumbles. “I can’t help it. You should be getting married and making babies right now, not wasting your time with some crippled has-been. My mother could take care of me too, you know.”

A strong hand smacks him in the back of the head, and Jin’s comforted by the fact that Yamapi doesn’t baby him like his mother would. “You are _not_ a has-been, stupid. You could sing if you wanted to. You’re just too fucking proud.”

It would sting if they haven’t had this argument a million times. “It’s pointless if I can’t move around.”

“It’s only pointless to you,” Yamapi hisses.

“Regardless,” Jin counters, “I’m completely holding up your life.”

Yamapi doesn’t say anything for the longest time, and Jin gets a little nervous because this is a new can of worms that he hasn’t dared to open before. Up until now he’d always thought that he was just biding his time until Yamapi met someone and shipped him back to his mother, electing him best man at his wedding and godfather of his children. It would be okay if Yamapi could live _for_ him, he decided. Except that Yamapi wasn’t even trying to meet people, not bothering to go out with costars after filming or utilize the idol network to get a date.

“Don’t you get it?” Yamapi finally says, his voice cracking. “You _are_ my life.”

Jin turns so fast that he almost falls over, Yamapi’s arms tightening around his waist in a way that would be romantic if they were lovers. “What?”

“Open your eyes and see what’s right in front of you,” Yamapi demands, and Jin focuses on the stone serious look on his face. “Do you think I would be here right now if I didn’t want to be?”

“No?” Jin guesses, starting to feel confused. “I know you care, but we’re turning _thirty_. Shouldn’t you be looking for love?”

“Why would I need to look for it?” Yamapi asks, his face softening as his grip on Jin loosens. “I’ve already found it.”

Jin’s knees start to wobble, and for the first time since his accident his stance is compromised by something other than pain. “Wh-what are you saying?”

“I _love_ you, stupid,” Yamapi says outright, and Jin’s knees give out. Yamapi can’t catch him before he hits the ground, settling for gently guiding him down into some semblance of a kneeling position. “I’ll go get the chair.”

“No,” calls Jin, grabbing Yamapi’s wrist to halt him. “It can wait.”

Yamapi lifts his eyes to look at Jin, and it’s one of the few times he’s actually seen the other so vulnerable. Yamapi’s the one who is always put-together and secure, even if he’s off in his own little world or concerned with something that’s important to him. But right now his bottom lip is being pulled between his teeth, like he’s bracing himself for rejection, and Jin would probably fall in love with him right now if it wasn’t for a little matter of pride.

“I can’t accept your feelings like this,” he says clearly, ignoring the pounding of his heart. “I won’t let you settle out of pity.”

Now Yamapi’s eyes narrow, and Jin’s pretty sure that if he could shoot fire out of them, he’d be fried. “I should kick your ass for insulting my love like that,” he growls in a voice that has Jin shivering. “Do you actually think this is something new that formed after you got hurt?”

“What else would it be?” Jin shoots back. “It’s not like you’ve been harboring some secret gay crush on me for years. That would just be stupid.”

Yamapi scoffs. “Yeah, because you would have been _so open_ to it back then.”

Whatever Jin had been planning to say dies on the tip of his tongue, his mind blank as he stares in disbelief at Yamapi. “You’re serious.”

“My only regret would have been if I’d lost you that night,” Yamapi tells him, then pauses to clear his throat. “I was a mess because I thought you’d been taken away from me before I had the balls to tell you how I felt.”

“Tomo,” Jin breathes, the name still feeling foreign on his tongue. “I-I don’t know how I feel.”

“That’s okay,” Yamapi assures him. “I don’t expect you to return my feelings, I just want you to understand that you’re not a hindrance to me in any way.” He takes a breath. “If anything, I’m happy just spending time with you.”

“I’m happy too,” Jin insists. “Really, really happy.”

A sheepish, lopsided smile forms on Yamapi’s face, and Jin’s surprised at the way it feels to think that he’s _cute_. “Let’s go home, yeah?” Yamapi suggests brightly, spinning around in one hop and patting his shoulders. “Get on my back.”

Ordinarily Jin would protest, but it feels right to get closer to Yamapi and wrap his arms around his neck, holding on tight as Yamapi gets to his feet with minimal wincing. He pushes the empty wheelchair with one hand while the other’s hooked behind one of Jin’s knees, walking effortlessly down the street that becomes darker with each remaining minute of dusk.

“I miss your voice,” Yamapi breaks the comfortable silence, his voice so low that Jin thinks he imagined it at first. “You don’t sing anymore.”

Jin considers taunting him, maybe asking for requests, but his brain is faster than his acquiescence and his own lyrics are pouring out of his mouth, a breathy acapella that shakes with each step of Yamapi’s feet on the ground. The words come naturally, the song they’d sang together so long ago, the one Jin had never gotten a chance to sing for his friend’s wedding because he’d been in the hospital.

His voice grows stronger and unwavering, and he belatedly realizes it’s because Yamapi has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, standing still while Jin carries on uninterrupted. Jin hugs him tighter and leans forward to sing directly in his ear, smiling at the way Yamapi’s whole body shivers.

Right now Jin feels on top of the world, evoking this reaction in his most important person by just singing his song. It’s a good feeling and for the first time he thinks that it might be enough, maybe he could just sit on stage and express himself through his music. If he can be satisfied with just that, hopefully his fans will be too, and he can live his next thirty years with purpose.

But first, there is cake to be had. Baby steps.


End file.
